Dramatic UFC Fight Night Yan Vs Dvalishvili For Bantamweight Bout Official Poster Decor Poster Canvas
ITEM TYPE: Poster Canvas from Byztee is premium poster canvas. Get wall art that you’ll love printed on premium canvas prints, framed art prints, poster prints, and more, all of which ship quickly and come in custom sizes.
MATERIAL: Poster Information: Edge-to-edge printing with no borders on 200 GSM paper. 36 inches x 24 inches, 24 inches x 16 inches, and 16 inches x 12 inches are the dimensions. American-made printing. This object is not framed. Canvas Information: Please choose between Framed or Unframed Canvas: Unframed canvas: You will only get one roll; they have simply printed images on a canvas that cannot be hung. You must create your bespoke frames and mount them in your manner. Framed canvas: Each image is already framed so that the canvas can be stretched. After receiving the item, all you have to do is hang it up. The already attached hook makes hanging quick and simple. 36 inches x 24 inches, 24 inches x 16 inches, and 16 inches x 12 inches are the dimensions. Symbolic artwork is printed on strong, water-repellent, and wear-resistant materials. 360 gsm woven, artist-quality ultra-thick matte canvas. Long-lasting lightfast canvas prints and UV archival inks that prevent fading. Protective coating that deters spills and scratches. Printing on one side. Customer Satisfaction Guarantee: Please request a REPLACEMENT or REFUND using the email provided with the merchandise if you have any problems. Now that you’ve reached the top, click Add to Cart to start your preferred experience.
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Related Articles: A leather teddy was laser-cut like lace and embellished with thousands of little metal studs. This season’s prints combined tropical flowers, zebra stripes, and the label’s all-caps logo on repeat. Collaged together on soft-cut slip dresses with handkerchief hems worn on top of boyish cargo pants (a recurring silhouette this season), they vaguely evoked Biba, just this side of psychedelic. This section included a couple pairs of jeans. Shredded in precise diamond patterns, this was not your average denim, but it was a whole lot more casual than anything Versace has put on the runway lately, a sign of Donatella’s ambition to expand and diversify her offering. Before the end, the collection moved through the black-to-bright cycle again. Mariacarla’s black suit and sheer shirtdress mid-layer were sharp. The baby dolls, garters, and lace veils in pink, purple, and acid yellow looked torn from Madonna’s “Like a Virgin”–era playbook via Stephanie Seymour in “November Rain.” For the finale, Versace had another pop-culture blast from the past, none other than Paris Hilton in pink chain mail. Rebels of all kinds welcome here.
Cheapest UFC Fight Night Yan Vs Dvalishvili For Bantamweight Bout Official Poster Decor Poster Canvas
- Victoria Beckham’s first-ever show in Paris took place on the Friday afternoon of this hallowed Fashion Week schedule. The day before, Rick Owens presented tulle gowns the red of ox blood; in the morning Loewe showed shoes made of deflated balloons; and God only knows what Comme des Garçons has up its mastodon sleeve for Saturday. Invited to the French court of these avant-garde giants, Beckham—who started out in New York and relocated her show to London for her brand’s 10th anniversary—has reached the final chapter in her Heroine’s Journey into Fashion: the Approach to the Innermost Cave. “Things feel perfectly complicated,” she quipped during a preview for a collection that demonstrated all the knowledge she has accumulated during her 10-plus years as a fashion insider—and all the ambition she still harbors. She filled the cloisters of the church within Val-de-Grâce—the military complex where Yves Saint Laurent was hospitalized after his conscription breakdown—with a haunting aria from Madama Butterfly and layered it with a throbbing, ticking, pungent beat by Chromatics.
- Demna has had his own experience of war—he fled Georgia with his family when he was a young boy of 10. Being gay compounded his struggles. “I’ve felt like I’ve been punched in my face for being who I am,” he said, but “you have to stand up and continue walking, kind of like this crusade of discovering who you are and defending that.” He called this a “very me show.” It was heavy on grafitti’d hoodies and ravaged jeans, but there was also evening wear, in clingy T-shirt jersey or glamorous pleats. These were survivors against the odds, a point Demna made by sending out men clutching baby carriers propped with eerily lifelike dolls. “Naturally I’m an optimist, but I cannot be very optimistic right now,” he said. “I think this show actually expresses that very much—the music, the set, it spoke about the moment in which we live.” The soundtrack by BFRND was actually quite terrifying. To finish, Demna sent out a dress made from cut-up parts of black Balenciaga Lariat bags, a make-do-and-mend masterpiece that also pointed up our nasty overconsumption habits. Remember, he sent every last piece through the mud, a “sacrilege” by luxury standards. Using fashion to comment on the crises that plague us is a tricky business. Of course Demna wants us to shop, and of course his bosses do, too. But when it comes time to spend, my money’s on the guy who looks around and is terrified, not the sleepwalkers.
- At the moment this Givenchy show was due to start in the Jardin des Plantes—outdoors—it was raining in a concerted and highly depressing manner. Luckily Valentino had started so late, and, thanks to footwear dramas, gone on so long, that the fashion traffic jam was around 30 minutes late squeezing its way to this show. The rain calmed as we crawled onwards. What had seemed an imminent catastrophe was scaled down by the time we arrived to mere potentially preventable disaster. The set-up was a runway and benches made of cork. We wiped them down and sat on our umbrellas to avoid getting soaked unmentionables. You were better off wearing dark pants—that cork stained. By the time the first models emerged there was blue above. A fascinating piece in the New York Times had already created an anticipatory contextualization for what was a radical shift under Matthew Williams. He’d brought in Carine Roitfeld—no longer working with MaxMara—as a stylist and shifted the emphasis of what that newspaper’s writer Jessica Testa inferred was a house with no distinct codes. But was that so? What we got was a sandwich fashioned from couture flavored bread—delicate, feminine, sometimes derivative and a little processed—that was filled with a highly-flavored LA mayonnaise. The ruching on the opening, excellent dresses, was an Hubert staple. The boucle jackets, conversely, did not belong here: this was a brazen sample to drop. During one weird moment the show transitioned to Williams’s home territory of streetwear infused contemporaneousness—great denim, slouchy combats, all of that—just as the soundtrack segued into Fleetwood Mac’s Everywhere; the most vanilla track one could ever imagine this highly progressive music-lover choosing. I looked across the runway and noticed that Ye was tapping the toes of his Balenciaga gumboots in time. Things were getting weird. The closing phase was rather magnificent, although the party was often at the back. A red dress featured a gorgeous swooping rear hemline that curved from the shoulder to sacrum. Another dress was tied up at the back in a series of bows: simple but lovely. These, Williams said afterwards, were part of a series of archival looks that he and Roitfeld had dug up from the archives and reworked. So this is a house with codes, after all. Was Willams losing his mind when that storm came in? He feigned calm, saying: “I was thinking that their skin would look beautiful with the water on it. And the liquid in the hair… it would look incredible. And that it would be more dramatic in the rain.” He added of Roitfeld’s involvement: “She understands the house and the Parisian woman. So we built the collection together—it’s a dialogue between us. The beautiful thing about the brand is that it speaks to different women. It’s good to speak to everybody.” Even if the risk in trying to speak to everyone is that you end up connecting with no-one. However Williams, I suspect, could still untie the knotty problem that is Givenchy. As the Times of New York pitched it, he just needs time. But will he get it?
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Talk about diving in headfirst! Nobody embraces a theme like Jeremy Scott, a fact he’s reinforced throughout his eight-year run at Moschino, but this season he really went for it. “Everybody’s talking about inflation,” he said backstage. “The cost of everything’s going up: housing, food, life. So I took inflation into the collection.” He wasn’t talking about rising hemlines or oversized volumes either. He meant it literally, as we learned from look 1, a little black dress with Franco Moschino’s iconic heart done up as a mini inflatable “with a nozzle and everything.” By this observer’s count, every look save for a small handful had some sort of inflatable detail, be it a heart-shaped collar or hemline or “broken heart” lapels, one half on either side of neatly tailored jackets. There’s precedent for these kinds of antics. The house founder made a life jacket for his 1989 Cruise Me Baby collection that looked a lot like the vests stored under plane seats “in case of emergency.” Riffing on that idea, Scott added a life preserver ring to the jacket hem of a tweed skirt suit, and cut a trench in caution yellow with black raft handles where the epaulets should be. “Sometimes we feel like we’re drowning,” Scott continued, acknowledging the bad news stories clogging our feeds. “I’m sure you do. I know I do. But no matter what is going on, we have to save space for joy, right? The darker it is, the lighter I have to be.” Making good on that promise, he embellished his evening looks with honest-to-goodness pool floaties. The most inspired of the bunch included a strapless purple column cinched at the waist with the deflated ends of a pink raft, its pneumatic ends creating a train, and another strapless number that was accompanied by a Lilo stole. By the end, Imaan Hammam’s look was more of a floatation device than gown, but that was Scott’s point. Anyone who could use a little buoying up, Scott’s your pool boy.
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